I wasn't sure what help I could offer. I had a job. My three children (in their teens and twenties) still lived at home. I was busy... And, as Terry will attest, apart from when my children were young, I have never been a care-giver type. (We still laughingly recall him saying - early in our marriage when he was sick and expected me to look after him: Well, you're no Florence Nightingale...)
I really am no Florence Nightingale!
I admit, there was some resentment on my part. You weren't here when I could have used an occasional baby sitter, I wanted to tell her. And now that you need help, you want me to squeeze you into my already busy life... (Not exactly what a loving daughter should say... but that's the way it was.)
The past 12 years have been a learning curve for both of us... But, I have to admit, that for me, her moving here has been a gift... Not a gift wrapped in pretty paper and bows, but a lesson in life.
It wasn't easy. We both tried hard. She bravely tried to establish a new community of friends. I tried to help her as best I could.
Seeing her struggle with life's inevitable changes, I regularly came face to face with the fact that she was only 27 years older than I was... and in 27 years, I could be in her situation!
So, now when I see her at 95, in the nursing home, daily appreciate her life... (This is a good place to be when you need help.... The food is good... The entertainment today was wonderful - you should have been here... I can't complain - I've had a good life...)
She has become a role model for me.
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